


A Reason To Live

by theultimatenerd713



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 04:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15699966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theultimatenerd713/pseuds/theultimatenerd713
Summary: Connor learns more about humans every day. Today, he learns about birthdays.





	A Reason To Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Connor's birthday! Second chapter will come in a bit.

It’s a strange sight first thing in the morning, but oddly enough, when Connor walks into the precinct, Reed is _smiling._ Not one of those cocky, arrogant smirks either. He’s laughing with Chen as she bites down on a cupcake and contorts her face at the disgustingly sweet frosting. It’s weird enough that Connor heads straight towards his desk, unnerved, and continues to stare at them as Tina unwraps a small box containing an even tinier potted cactus.

Hank immediately picks up on his intrigue. “Don’t see something like that every day, do ya,” he comments, tilting his head towards the pair chuckling in the corner. Connor shakes his head.

“In the past year, Detective Reed has smiled approximately sixteen times while in the station, twelve of those occurring in the presence of Tina Chen and four of them while reviewing Eden Club case files. It is not entirely rare, but it _is_ unusual.” Connor tilts his head as Chen bumps her fist with Gavin’s and heads back to her desk, succulent in tow. Hank shrugs.

“Well, he’s got a good reason. It’s Chen’s birthday.”

Connor scans Tina. _DOB: August 10, 2002. Age: 37._ “That seems to be the case.” He turns to Hank, brow furrowed. “I was under the assumption that both Officer Chen and Detective Reed disliked celebrations of any sort. Neither of them have made the effort to attend any events held within the precinct or even recognize the day they joined the DPD.”

“Well, birthdays are special for humans, Con,” Hank replied, turning back to the terminal. “Especially in this line of work, we don’t always know if we’ll get to live another year. Hell, we don’t know if we’ll die tomorrow.” He smirks. “It’s always nice to tell someone you’re glad somebody made them and that they exist.”

Connor ponders his answer for a while. Androids are not born; they are made, have a manufacturing and activation date. It would still not make sense for an android to celebrate a birthday, as several models of the same name are created at the same time every day, serial numbers their only unique identifiers, as well as the names they chose...

He shakes his head, breaking his train of thought. He has important work to do today, and he can’t sit around and analyze human rituals. With that, he interfaces with the terminal and thinks nothing more of it.

 

01001000 01000010 01000011

 

Connor’s lounging on the couch in front of the television, idly petting Sumo who’s drooling all over his lap. He doesn’t mind; the warmth emanating from the large dog is comforting. Even now it feels a bit strange to find himself staying in Hank’s house, but it’s not like he has any other place to go.

The snowy firestorm that was the android revolution had come with a bit of baggage. Newly deviated androids who didn’t want to stay with their former owners were suddenly homeless, with no place to escape the biting cold they could now feel. Markus took in as many as he could and relocated the others to hotels and shelters, but a few were left stranded, like Connor himself.

_He wandered along the main street of downtown Detroit, the sounds of sirens the only echo through the still, frozen air. Hands tinged blue, Connor drew his jacket closer and activated his internal heating protocol, another convenient feature of his model. It could only do so much, though. With the city nearing sub-zero temperatures, his systems were in danger of slowing down, and the snow soaking through his clothes didn’t help either._

_It’s not like he could return to Jericho, even a few days after the event. Connor, the famous deviant hunter, the famous deviant_ _killer. _ _Daniel, the HK400, Rupert… the blood of numerous others were on his hands. Almost every android in the city feared him before he marched with the new CyberLife army back from the tower, and even now there was no telling what would happen if those who still distrusted him were to see him walk up to the deviant leader. Granted, they saw him with Markus before he went to the tower, but everybody in the country saw Connor raise his gun to Markus’s head before he was able to override Amanda and lower it. If he went back, they would think he was there to kill Markus. He wasn’t sure if the leaders of Jericho would trust him either._

 _With a steadily rising horror, Connor realized he couldn’t even secure his_ _own _ _defenses against Amanda. He may have created a temporary override, but what if she hadn’t left?_ _She may still be inside my mind palace._ _He quickly ducked into an alley, leaning against the cold brick wall, drawing in shaky breaths he didn’t need. He closed his eyes and delved into the very core of his systems, filtering out unnecessary programs at the speed of light. There, near the base components. A solitary string of code close to the mission procedures, labeled ‘ASAI’._

_Connor went to isolate it, but was met by a burst of electricity, shocking his eyes open. The added anti-devancy measures. No wonder it was so hard to find the emergency exit in the zen garden; his security measures were stronger than any other android. They couldn’t risk an earlier deviancy. Gritting his teeth, he forced his way to the code, tears springing to his eyes as his systems began overloading at the power surge. He dragged it out, barely holding on to the wall as he left the energy field, and isolated it in a separate file._

_Trembling, Connor quickly deleted it, and as an added measure, removed every trace of it from his archived data. There was no telling if CyberLife could hack in and restore Amanda with an old version, so this would remove that possibility. He sighed and sagged against the wall, the anxiety and stress lifting off his chest. Now, he was safe. He took a moment to make sure his system was running at full efficiency, then pushed himself off the wall. This alley should provide adequate shelter until the storm wore off._ _Let me see how I can warm up._

_Connor spent the next few days turning the alley into a makeshift shelter, braving the storm for a few hours to collect plywood and materials for a fire. He didn’t need to eat or sleep, which he supposed was some small comfort, but he did need to prevent himself from freezing. He took some civilian clothing from a nearby storefront, grabbing a long black trench coat and some warmer shirts. All the stores were abandoned by their human managers when they fled the city in favor of safer ground, and it was no problem to simply stride in and take what he needed. Within no time he was set up, taking sips of thirium from bags he scavenged in a broken CyberLife store._

_Unexpectedly, a small text box opened up in the corner of his vision. He was about to push it away as just another software instability warning, when he saw the name in the heading._

 

**_Lt. Hank Anderson_ **

_hey connor just checking to see if you’re okay i guess_

 

_Connor felt a surge of warmth in his chest. His relationship with the Lieutenant had progressed to friendship before Connor left to assist Jericho, but he had been under the assumption that his departure had ended it. Perhaps there was still hope. He quickly sent a message back._

 

**_Me_ **

_Hello, Hank. I am alright. How are you? How is Sumo?_

 

_Another message popped up, less than a minute after Connor replied._

 

**_Lt. Hank Anderson_ **

_jesus christ kid i thought you were dead_

**_Lt. Hank Anderson_ **

_i’m fine, sumo’s fine, we’re still in detroit. nobody’s kicking me out of my own fuckin house._

 

_Connor smiled. Hank still cared for him after all, even if he didn’t outright say it. He finished off the second bag of thirium, finally replenished, and stood, surveying the alley. The far end was open to the street, and he could see that the storm was finally dying down, snowflakes falling at a gentle pace rather than the flurry it was before._

 

**_Me_ **

_Would you like to meet near Chicken Feed tomorrow at 9 AM?_

 

_Probability of snowfall ceasing by 7:00 AM tomorrow: 97%._

_Contact name:_ **_Lt. Hank Anderson_ **

_ <change> value=Hank _

_change value to Hank?_

_ <confirm> _

_Contact name:_ **_Hank_ **

 

**_Hank_ **

_yeah sure_

 

They had met the next day, and once Hank realized exactly where Connor was staying, he had put his foot down and practically dragged Connor and his few belongings back to his house. Now this is Connor’s home as well, and he’s just begun to relax into the soft couch he’s grown to love when his thoughts from the morning pop back into his head.

He scratches Sumo behind the ears with one hand as he flips his coin in the other. _Celebrating a birthday is essential to a human’s youth,_ he muses. The coin rolls across the back of his palm. _It enables them to receive gifts of appreciation for their presence and encourages survival by rewarding them every year._ He spins the coin in the palm of his hand. _It is also a source of great joy to the individual._

With a sigh, he catches the coin. _Androids do not have nor require birthdays in order to remain living. With the proper components, our survival is almost guaranteed._ Connor leans back into the couch. He opens his palm to reveal the coin, the face of George Washington staring back up at him. _You are not human_ , his eyes say. _Did you think you could be like us?_ his sealed lips ask.

  
Connor shuts his palm, eyes burning as he wearily pushes his face into Sumo’s fur. His systems were clearly overheating and causing errors in his auditory and visual receptors. As Sumo’s breaths began to slow, Connor slowly let himself slip into standby, his mind blissfully empty as they slumbered together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ay if you like this follow me on twitter @ultimatenerd713 for updates and other shenanigans


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